Dreams and Desire
by FatesMistake
Summary: Harry is dating Ginny when he suddenly realizes that he is attracted to the other boys in school. Worse, he has a burning desire for his surly Potions Professor. He wants the future he's dreamed of with Ginny, but can he have his cake and eat it, too? Rated T for language and very mild sexual themes. Tiny bit of Established Relationship at the end, because everyone keeps asking.
1. Desire

It was in the 7th Year Potions class that Harry's whole world changed. It was one of those rare classes where Snape was brewing while he gave the lecture (with the winter had come a nearly school-wide case of cold, and Snape was, of course, in charge of restoring the Hospital Wing's supply of Pepper-Up), and Harry sat mesmerized by the sultry, dark chocolate tones emanating from the front of the room. He had long since given up trying to concentrate during Snape's lectures, and Hermione had given up (mostly) on trying to make him, or refusing to share her notes for the homework.

For reason's the now adult Wizarding Savior didn't care to analyze, the sound of Snape's voice had become almost hypnotic; the silky baritone acted like a balm against reality, and, when Harry heard it for any real period of time, it was as if nothing else existed. As Harry was lulled further by the rumbling, gilt-edged tones, his eyes alighted on the impossibly long, potion-stained fingers carefully measuring out some unknown powder. He watched, entranced, as those nimble digits pinched the perfect amount of powder to sprinkle into the potion, and slowly traced the contours of the limber wrists. Green eyes followed the line of the form-fitting sleeves, up the toned forearm and lithely muscular biceps, tracing over the thin, pale throat.

Snape suddenly dipped his head forward as he expounded on a point while absent-mindedly stirring his potion, and dark eyes bored into Harry. It was only a glance, a moment of unfathomable black before the coal gaze swept over the room, but in that second Harry felt something deep within him stir. A new, unknowable feeling flooded Harry's veins, like fire and ice all at once, and in the pit of his stomach he felt a stirring, animalistic thing give a feral growl. This new feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before, something raw, and powerful…and dangerous.

This lustful stirring startled Harry…it scared him, in a way Voldemort had never managed. Up until this moment, he had never even thought to question his sexuality or the attraction he felt for Ginny, his girlfriend of two years. Now, he couldn't help the thoughts brewing in his mind, just below the surface of truly conscious thought. The result was a deep, unsettling confusion.

When the bell rang, releasing the class, Harry bolted from the room as soon as he got his things packed away. He dashed all the way to the Seventh Floor, barely stopping to give the password to the Fat Lady before rushing up to his dorm. He threw himself onto his bed, closing the curtains of the four-poster, and sat there in a mild panic, breathing heavily. As a final measure, he cast a silencing charm on the curtains.

"Okay, so…what the bleeding hell just happened?!" He whispered fiercely, staring at the pillow he held to his chest. "There is no _way_ I just felt _that_ for my professor! My very _male_ professor!" He groaned, throwing himself back onto the bed and covering his face with the cool pillow.

He could still feel the partial erection (a side-effect of the "feeling" he'd had in class) pressing against his uniform slacks, and he was pretty sure if he looked down he could probably see the tent even through his robes. He groaned again and tried to think of anything besides Snape's sinuous hands and sharp tongue. Even more startling, when he tried to think of Ginny, he couldn't seem to find her face in his memory, only Snape's dark eyes. Finally, the thought of making out with Hermione (he loved the girl, but she was like a sister) forced what remained of his manhood salute to cease and desist. He laid there, his mind running in circles, for an untold amount of time.

"Harry?"

The Gryffindor started, sitting up and ripping the pillow from his face. "Hermione?"

"Harry, are you alright? You just sort of ran out of Potions like you had a swarm of Dementors on your tail," The girl asked, her voice drawing closer to his closed curtains.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry answered nervously. The girl was always so perceptive, he didn't need her knowing he was suddenly in crisis over his feelings for Ginny.

"Harry?" His friend called again, more insistent. "Harry…" His curtains twitched aside to show his best friend looking at him in exasperation. She sat on the edge of his bed. "You do realize that a silencing charm means I can't hear you outside of these curtains, right?"

The Gryffindor gave another groan as he slapped his palm against his forehead. "No, I forgot I put it up." He glanced up at his friend with a small chuckle. "Stupid. I'm fine, though, 'Mione, honest. I just felt a little queasy." Nor was this completely a lie. "I didn't want to give Snape an excuse to take points if I threw up on his floor."

Hermione looked unconvinced, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at him pointedly, but he only offered a chagrined smile in return. Finally, she rolled her eyes and smiled softly. "Come here, let me see if you have a fever." She leaned over and pulled him forward by a hand on the back of his neck so she could place a tender kiss on his forehead. When she pulled away, she eyed him critically. "Well, you aren't warm…except for that blush you keep trying to hide."

Harry rolled his eyes, making her giggle. "You always see right through me, 'Mione."

"It's what I'm here for, silly," She crooned. "Still, you are looking a little flushed, and that cold is still making its way through the school. I know you're usually immune to the yearly bug, but why don't we stop by the Infirmary on our way down to Dinner, get you some Pepper-Up? We need to take Ron anyway, because he keeps claiming that he 'thust dunt get coldth'. Snape's probably got it all finished up by now."

At the mention of Snape and the potion he'd been brewing in class, Harry felt that self-same flash of desire, though this time it was thankfully much dimmer, and didn't affect his body in quite the same way. Instead, it felt like a bolt of lightning up his spine, and he blushed harder, hiding his face.

"Yeah, sure, Hermione…I know better than to argue with you about my health, and to be honest, I'm not feeling that great anyway," He mumbled past his hands, which were cupped over his face.

Together, they left for the Infirmary, dragging a sniffling, sneezing Ron with them from the common room.

The next day Harry woke with an idea forming in his mind. He had decided that the feeling yesterday was a fluke, just an outpouring of doubt now that he and Ginny had started talking about marriage. With that sorted, he walked into Potions a few days later, feeling confident that nothing could go wrong (except his potion, but when was that news?).

As soon as Snape came barging into the room with his typical, angry flare, and explained that, rather than their planned exercise, they would all be brewing Pepper-Up for the Hospital Wing, Harry got a deep sense that he was screwed. Not because of the potion, a mixture that he, for once, knew he could brew competently, but because somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach butterflies had taken up residence and had started fluttering immediately upon Snape's entrance. He was about halfway through the potion, perfectly on point with where the instructions said he should be, when Snape began making his rounds of the desks.

Being at the back of the room, Harry should have seen or heard something of the Potions Master's approach. In spite of this advantage, he was startled into nearly fudging his potion when a deep, rumbling voice spoke softly from the vicinity of his elbow.

"Well done, Mister Potter," Snape said softly. "I am impressed."

Harry blushed, taking pride in the compliment as Snape moved on. Despite this being a Fourth Year potion, he was proud of finally finagling some small measure of respect from the immoveable Potions Master. As an added bonus, he could feel his body already responding to the sudden, if brief, proximity of the older man, causing his blush (and confusion) to deepen. He didn't understand why his body was behaving this way, as it had never done for Ginny.

For the next few days, Harry studied the other boys in his year, wondering if maybe it was some prank that someone had pulled on him to make him suddenly feel for Snape. At first, he noticed no difference in how he looked at the other boys. Granted, he found them attractive, but he'd always thought that, and the little flashes of curious desire, were normal. However, over the weekend he caught a glimpse of Seamus in the showers. Images of what he could do with the boy's large phallus flooded his mind's eye without warning, and he flushed with embarrassment as his body responded positively to these thoughts. After that, he started to more easily accept the slight attraction he saw in the beauty of other boys; an attraction he had, until now, pretended he didn't feel, but was willing to admit had been there.

Draco Malfoy had been a particularly interesting case. They'd been at Lunch and he'd just happened to look up at the same time as the other boy. Silver eyes had latched onto his, and fantasies leapt into his thoughts, causing him to blush. He'd looked away as soon as the blond had risen a perfectly manicured eyebrow in shaded curiosity, but had been unable to keep his eyes from the strikingly beautiful face for long. Throughout the meal, his plate forgotten, he had snuck glances at the Slytherin, tracing the lines of the stunning aristocratic features. This time, his response wasn't wholly sexual, and when images of the two walking hand-in-hand through the snow-covered Hogsmeade village invaded his mind, Harry had run from the Great Hall without so much as a word to his friends. It scared him to think what all of this could mean.

What made things worse was that, now that he'd accepted his broadened view of beauty and sexuality, he couldn't seem to make it stop. Plenty of times he'd think about the boys in his year sexually before catching himself at it, but worse, Snape pervaded his thoughts almost constantly now. With him, though, the thoughts weren't so much fantasy as a driving impulse to kiss the man and never stop.


	2. Decisions

It was almost a week later when Hermione discovered him in the same position he'd been in when these feelings first surfaced: staring down his nose into his pillow.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry sat up and left his pillow to fall into his lap. He sighed as Hermione peeked between the parted curtains.

"I dunno," He murmured, putting his face in his hands.

He looked up as something landed on the pillow in his lap. Hermione had thrown herself onto his bed, her legs dangling off the end. He smirked at her as she sighed contentedly.

"Comfy?"

She grinned. "Very." She snuggled further into his lap, and after a moment she frowned up at him. "Are you all right?" She asked again. "Really, I mean, Harry. You've been acting really weird lately, like you're distracted. Ginny says you haven't been spending hardly any time with her, and I hardly see you outside of classes, except when we're working on our homework. What's bothering you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, brushing his fingers through the soft, brown curls fanned around the head in his lap. "How do you do that?" He mumbled, staring at his friend with a gaze softened by brotherly love. "You know me best of anyone, I can never hide anything from you for long."

The girl sat up and leaned on her arm to gently caress his cheek. "You're deflecting."

The Gryffindor boy chuckled, holding her palm to his cheek. "You caught me…" He stared into the muddy brown eyes of his closest friend. "I don't know if it's anything, I'm probably just being silly, but…" He trailed off, unsure how to phrase his problem.

"You've got feelings for Professor Snape." It wasn't a question.

Harry blushed. "Way to hit the nail on the head, Hermione. Yeah, I guess that's the best way to put it. I dunno what it is, really. It-it's just so sudden, and completely unexpected. But a couple weeks ago it just hit me that I was attracted to him. It came so quickly that I almost wondered if maybe I'd been dosed with a love potion- if it weren't for the fact that no one would _ever_ be able to get a piece of Snape to put in the potion, of course."

"Harry…"Hermione began carefully, chewing her bottom lip. "Have you thought that it's more than just simple attraction?"

"What?!" The Wizarding Savior balked. "No, Hermione! I can't even consider that I might be…that way."

The witch scowled angrily. "Harry James! If you're about to tell me that you think homosexuality is perverted or some such rot as that, I have half a mind to split your head!"

"No!" Harry answered quickly. "That's not it! It's just…I _can't_ be gay because I'm attracted to _Ginny_. There's nothing wrong with it, but…I've always liked _girls_."

His friend relaxed, and her scowl transformed into a look of exasperation. "Don't be stupid, Harry, that doesn't mean anything," She told him matter-of-factly. "Just because you like girls doesn't mean you can't like guys. That's a child's way of looking at things. The only difference is _how_ you feel about them. Are you more attracted to Professor Snape than you are to Ginny?"

Harry stared down at his pillow, picking at invisible lint. "I-I dunno…I mean, I guess the short answer is yes, but…it's different. With Ginny, I love the way the sun glistens off her hair, making it shine like fire, and her beauty is just captivating. My body doesn't really react to her, but I just figured it was because she's my best friend's sister, and I respect her as woman."

"And when you think about Snape?" The girl coaxed.

The young wizard couldn't help a small blush. "I get excited. Just thinking about him makes butterflies dance in my stomach, and my heart spiral into this endless stutter in my throat. My palms sweat and my…" He trailed off, blushing further.

"You get hard?" Hermione asked baldly.

"Hermione!" Harry whispered fervently, looking around at his closed curtains.

The young witch leaned in conspiratorially. "No one can hear us, Harry!"

The boy scowled and swallowed thickly, glancing at his curtains again. He continued to whisper, despite the reminder of his silencing charms. "Alright, yes, I…I get _hard_. And that's just when I think about him. When I see him, I can hardly draw a breath, and when he's near me, all I can think about is wanting to kiss him."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione cooed softly, sitting up completely and pulling him into a tight embrace.

Harry sighed and nuzzled her soft brown hair. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

She pulled away with a gentle, patronizing smile. "Completely."

"But…what'll I tell Ginny? We've been talking about _marriage_ , 'Mione, I can't just abandon her!" Harry moaned.

"I don't know, Harry," The girl admitted. "I've never been in your position, I can't help you. But, if she really loves you, then she'll understand. Maybe not right away, but eventually she will."

Harry groaned and threw himself back on the mattress. "That doesn't help. I really don't know what to tell her. She's going to be crushed."

Hermione shrugged, patting his leg. "You'll figure it out, Harry." She left him to wallow in self-doubt and pity.

As he lay on his bed, staring up at the canopy of his four poster, Harry wondered just how everything could have gotten so screwed up. Not a month ago, he and Ginny had been planning their wedding. It was going to be in the summer, an outdoor service because of the way the sun played with her features, and they were even planning to ask Bill and Fleur if they could have the wedding on the beach by their house and hold the reception in the backyard. Everything was set, everything was ready for him to lead a happy life with his best friend's baby sister. And now, it was ruined.

Before all this had happened, Harry had been able to envision his future perfectly: a quaint house in a quaint little village, far from Surrey and the horror of his relatives. Two, maybe even three kids; two boys and a girl. He honestly didn't mind if he had any boys, but he wanted that baby girl. With his father's rugged looks and Ginny's red hair, he thought a girl would be perfect, maybe she would even look like his mum. But now, with this sudden and unwanted revelation of his sexuality (an impulse he'd always ignored as simple boredom) all he could see for the future was dark storm clouds and a hideous rejection.

Yeah, if he tried really hard, Harry could still imagine that life with Snape, but the mere thought made his chest clench with the icy reality. Snape would never want that life. He was a spy, a war hero, and a teacher; what the hell would he want with a quaint life and children of his own? Especially children who could very well come out looking like his dead childhood nightmare, or worse, his dead best friend? And that was even _if_ he could look past Harry's complete and utter lack of desirability long enough to form a real relationship with him.

Harry sighed, rolling over onto his side to curl into a ball. With Gin, he'd been guaranteed a life of happiness, because, Merlin knew how, she had looked past his innumerable flaws and fallen in love with him. With Snape…the man couldn't even look past his father's face long enough to give him a kind word of encouragement, how would he ever see Harry for who he really was? Never mind finding something to love in the mess that was 'Just Harry'. The fact was, with Ginny, he'd had a future, and with Snape…there couldn't possibly be one for them, the man hated him too much.

The Boy Who Lived fell asleep curled around his pillow, silent tears falling to soak his mattress as he dreamt of the number of ways Snape would reject him if he ever found out about his feelings. Near morning, the dreams slowly changed, and Harry dreamt as he had before this mess; of a little village like Hogsmeade, and a big house full of rooms for all the family in the world. He dreamt of a red-headed little girl and two older boys with hair as jet black as their father's. The elder boy and tiny girl child even had eyes as vibrantly green as their father and grandmother. So what if the elder boy had raven blue streaks in his hair and a crooked, hooked nose; nevermind if the little girl had pale, ghostly white skin; and what of it if the younger boy had piercing, coal black eyes to spark with the red highlights in his hair? They were healthy, happy children, and these tiny little details didn't matter because this was the dream that Harry wanted to come true.


	3. Detention

A couple weeks later, all of Hogwarts was preparing for the Christmas Holiday. Ginny and Ron would be leaving, because Mrs. Weasley had requested their presence, but they were going to Romania to visit Charlie and escape the blistering cold, so Harry, while welcome, decided to remain at Hogwarts. Remus, who was living in Grimmauld, had also invited him to 'come home', but the mere fact that he had to be _invited_ to a place that was supposed to be home, a place rife with memories of his dead godfather, had Harry begging off. He didn't really mind staying behind, because who knew when he'd be coming back to Hogwarts after they finished their final year. Hermione was happy to stay with him, apparently avoiding her parents who were pushing her to pursue a "normal" job, specifically dentistry.

Harry and Ginny were walking down the second floor corridor near the Library holding hands. They weren't the only couple, here or elsewhere in the castle, though many were out by the frozen lake. It seemed like most of the paired-up students were taking this, the last day before everyone left for the Holiday, to say their goodbyes by traipsing around the school together in their little lovesick bubbles.

Ever since he'd decided to ignore his feelings for Snape, Harry had begun spending every possible moment with his red-headed girlfriend. Her every wish had become his command, and he'd already bought her the most extravagant gift he could find (a beautiful gold necklace with an emerald pendant) for Christmas. Unfortunately, he was still finding it hard to rid himself of his urges towards the resident Potions Master, and in response to this he had begun to cling to his confused girlfriend. She seemed to enjoy the attention, at least Harry hoped she did, but he was starting to get the idea that she was suspicious of his motives.

They paused in the corridor, Ginny pulling on his hand to get Harry's attention. He turned to face her, his face lighting up with a chagrined smile. "What's the matter, Gin?"

"You're distracted again, Harry," The younger girl told him mildly.

Harry couldn't help a blush. "I'm sorry, guess I'm not good company when I'm like that."

The girl shook her head, still refusing to smile back. "You're fine, Harry. It's just- I think we should-"

Harry zoned out as he heard the familiar click of heels a little ways down the corridor. He had found it impossible to hide from his feelings, and from Snape, even in a castle as large as this. He strained his ears, Ginny still talking at him without him hearing. He didn't hear the footsteps again, and shivered lightly, deciding it had been in his head. A little trick of his mind to try and distract him from his last day with the girl he loved before they were forced to spend two weeks apart.

"Harry? Harry!"

The Wizarding Hero started, the grin that had slipped stretching his lips again. It felt false, but even so, he couldn't help but smile when he looked at the red-headed beauty. Whenever he looked into her muddy brown eyes, he saw nothing but the large house, the quaint village, and the three little children that would complete the family he had dreamed of. He could…he _would_ have that with her, if only because his being useless in anything besides monster hunting meant he could have it with nobody else.

"Sorry, Gin, I must have zoned out for a moment. I really am sorry. Forgive me? I love you," He said. To reinforce this assertion, he leaned in to place a kiss on her full, pouting lips.

"Harry-"

Before she could get anything else out, he pulled her against his chest, one hand cupping the back of her head, and drew her into a slow, languid kiss. At first, she melted into it, as she always did, but she quickly stiffened and pushed him away. He frowned now as well. Something was obviously bothering her.

"Potter."

Harry stiffened, a dark ripple curling up his spine at the sound of that voice. He turned to see the Potions Master towering over him. Even at a respectable 5'9, the man was able to stare down his crooked nose at Harry, towering almost a full five inches above him. Harry straightened, ignoring the blush that rose on his cheeks and the urge that consumed his mind.

"Yessir?"

Snape sneered down at him. "Detention, for harassing your fellow student, and forcing us all to watch."

Harry scowled. "But, Sir, I wasn't doing anything wrong, I was just kissing my girlfriend!" He argued.

The older wizard scoffed. "Girlfriend." He turned to continue down the hall.

The young Savior moved past his girlfriend as the Potions Master made his way down the corridor beyond them. "No one asked you to watch!" He shouted. He said the next part under his breath. "Pervy git."

The Potions Master paused in his steps, and Harry had a heart-stopping moment where he thought the man had heard him. "Now, Potter! I will not suffer your company longer than I must. You will serve your detention now whilst I still have the patience for it."

Harry's scowl deepened. "Patience my arse." He looked at his girlfriend, who only looked back in exasperation. "I'll see you later, Gin. Will you meet me in the Common Room after my detention? Snape doesn't usually make me stay longer than an hour or two, and if I know you're waiting I can clean cauldrons in half that time."

Ginny smiled, but Harry noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure, Harry, I'll see you after your detention. You better go, Snape seems to be in a mood."

With a nod, the Seventh Year took off down the corridor to fall into step behind his Potions Professor. His scowl was back in place, but as they made their way in silence to the cold dungeons it slowly slipped into a look of resignation. All his time avoiding Snape, and he'd manage to get a detention.

As soon as they came to a stop in front of the man's classroom, Harry steeled himself against spending the next hour or so with the Potions Master…alone, completely and totally alone. As impulses went, he was pretty sure wanting to kiss the man was no more dangerous than anything else, but he'd still much prefer keeping his head squarely on his shoulders and not rolling around on the floor. He only hoped that ,after 11 years of fighting the urge to run from his so-called family and another six of fighting the urge to tell the entire Wizarding world to damned well bugger off, he had learned enough self-control to _not_ do the one thing he wanted more than anything _to_ do.

Snape led the way into his classroom and gestured to Harry's usual corner full of used and dirty cauldrons. "You'll be cleaning cauldrons, Potter, without magic."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Oh good, something new and different!" Harry muttered sarcastically.

"That's ten points from Gryffindor for your lip, Potter," Snape announced without turning. He continued to his desk and Harry groaned.

The pile of cauldrons was fairly small, and Harry figured he could knock it out in under an hour if he tried really hard. He had to hide a small smile when he imagined his Aunt Petunia hovering over his shoulder. That image would do for the purposes of hurrying along this mind-numbing chore. Rolling up his sleeves, the seventeen year old set to work cleaning the cauldrons, resolved to ignore the man at the desk on the far side of the room.


	4. Deliverance

Harry stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room completely pissed. The room was mostly empty, the majority of the students already down at dinner or headed there, but Hermione and Ginny were standing by the couch in front of the massive fireplace. Harry turned towards them.

"Can you believe that bastard? After the cauldrons he made me scrub every desktop until they were freaking _polished_. By the time I was done the damn things looked brand new and he didn't even _thank_ me, he just grunted and dismissed me! I spent nearly two hours cleaning those desks and all I get for my work is a fucking _grunt_ ," The Wizarding Savior shouted angrily. He threw himself into one of the armchairs, glancing at his crotch to be sure his erection was gone, and then pinching the bridge of his nose.

Snape had done more than grunt when Harry had finished. He'd come up behind Harry and leaned over his shoulder to study the last tabletop. His fingers had run over the desk in slick circles, and then his fingers had grasped Harry's smaller hand and dragged it across the surface. Harry had been confused at first (and consumed by desire, though he'd hidden it well), but then he'd felt the rough edge of a stain that was more stubborn than elbow grease could get out. That was when the Potions Master had grunted, told Harry that it would suffice, and dismissed him without looking back as he returned to his own desk. Harry had been angry, but those few moments when Snape had been pressed against him, studying the student-desk, had set Harry's blood aflame, and he'd been anxious to leave and hide his body's reaction.

The Boy Who Lived looked up to see his girlfriend and best friend still standing over him. He frowned. They looked as serious as the grave, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. It suddenly occurred to him that he should've listened harder when Ginny had tried to talk to him earlier. Sitting up straighter, Harry leaned over his knees to stare at them.

"What's happened? What's wrong?"

Ginny sighed and looked away from Harry's searching gaze. "We need to talk, Harry," She murmured. "Hermione and I have been talking, and…I know what's had you so distracted lately."

Harry pushed himself to his feet, looking past his girlfriend to stare in disbelief at his friend. "You told her?!"

Hermione raised her hands in mock surrender. "Ginny came to me, Harry, with her suspicions. I only confirmed what she already knew, and I never told her _who_ has you so distracted."

Harry looked back at Ginny, reaching for her only to have her shy away from his touch. "Ginny, I'm sorry…I never meant-" He broke off and squared his shoulders. "It doesn't _matter_ , Gin. Yes, I've been distracted lately because my thoughts were-were consumed by someone else, but it doesn't matter because I chose you. I'm _choosing_ to stay with you, to have our love and our future, nevermind where my thoughts have strayed."

"But how long will it last, Harry?!" The red-head demanded, turning back to him. Tears coursed over her porcelain cheeks unchecked and it hurt Harry's heart to see her so upset. "How long will I have to wonder about who you're smiling for, or who you're thinking of? What if it _never_ stops? What if, the first time we make love, you're thinking of someone else? I can't spend the rest of my life _wondering_ if my boyfriend, my husband-to-be, is thinking of other men just so he can get it up long enough to satisfy me in our marriage bed!"

Harry paled. "Other- Gin, I haven't- I don't-"

"You have!" She screamed. "I'm not an idiot, Harry, I've been watching you as much as you've been ignoring me. I see the way you look at the boys in our year. You're smitten, and trying to cover it by being attracted to anyone who _isn't_ the object of your affections. It wasn't a hard leap from there to realize that, not only are you smitten, but that you've become aware of your sexuality because of it. Maybe you did...want me…at some point, but not anymore, and I just can't be with someone who is using me as second best."

"Gin, I'm not…" He trailed off, looking away. She was right, whether he liked it or not. It had never occurred to him that that was what he was doing, but she was exactly right. He hadn't decided to stay because he loved her, he'd decided to stay because she could give him the future he'd dreamed of and Snape couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- do that. "Ginny, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen, I swear." He sat down and buried his face in his hands as the weight of what was happening sunk in. His own tears came now as he realized he would never get his family.

"Oh, Harry."

The Seventh Year looked up as his hands were gently pulled from his face. Ginny was kneeling in front of him, holding his hands in his lap. She had stopped crying and was looking at him with sympathy.

"This isn't your fault, Harry," She murmured. "I've had my suspicions about this for a few weeks, and I've done blaming you or myself. This wasn't anyone's fault. Your sexuality was stunted, is all. You were forced to fight a war, you didn't have time to explore real attraction. It's okay that, now that you've had time to relax and be a normal teenager, it's all snuck up on you. I think, perhaps, that sometimes that's what happens. Sometimes your sexuality just sneaks up on you."

Harry couldn't quite comprehend how the yelling and crying from before had just suddenly become this understanding. "But then…you're not angry?" He asked carefully.

The younger witch shook her head. "No, Harry, I'm not. I'm upset, and I'm sad, but I'm not angry. You can't help the way you feel about whoever-it-is any more than I can help the way I feel about you. I wish things were different, but since they aren't, we must simply KBO." Harry frowned in confusion and the girl gave a watery chuckle. "Keep Buggering On."

Harry couldn't help a small smile as he leaned over and pulled the smaller body into a hug. "I really do love you, y'know," He murmured in her ear. "I will regret every day for the rest of my life that I couldn't make this work between us."

Ginny shook her head again. "No, you won't, and that's okay, too. We can't live with regret, Harry. Someday you'll find the perfect bloke, even if it's not the one you want right now, and then you'll be glad that this didn't work, because you'll have found real happiness. And the same will happen to me. For now, we should head down to dinner."

Harry nodded and opened his eyes to see Hermione standing aside with her arms wrapped around herself, looking self-conscious. He pulled away from his now ex-girlfriend. With a smile, he placed a small kiss on her forehead.

"You go ahead, Ginny. I need to talk to Hermione for a minute. I'll see you down there?"

The girl nodded, brushing away the last of her tears and returning his smile sadly. "You bet, Harry." She stood up and left the common room with a last, grateful look at Hermione.

When she was gone, Harry stood stoically from his chair.

"Hermione-"

"Harry, I'm sorry. She came to me, and I just couldn't watch her suffer," Hermione told him pleadingly.

Harry moved towards his friend with slow deliberate steps, and she backed away uncertainly.

"Please, Harry, just say something. Shout at me if you must," Hermione said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I did what I thought was best, I really did. I couldn't just watch her torture herself. She thought _she'd_ done something wrong. What was I supposed to do?"

The Wizarding Saviors long stride covered the distance between them faster than she could step backward, and when he was close enough he pulled her into a strong hug, holding her head to his chest. She froze against him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to hold back her tears. Harry smoothed a hand over her hair.

"Thank you, Hermione," He whispered against her bushy hair. "And I'm sorry. I should never have forced you to keep my secrets for me."

The young woman slumped against him. "Thank you."

Harry gave a small sigh. "And I'm also sorry for being wrong about which Weasley you were in love with."

Hermione gasped and pulled away from him sharply. "Harry, you can't-"

"I won't say anything," He assured his friend, pulling her back into the hug. "I'm just sorry I was so wrapped up in my own turmoil to ignore the turmoil you were in."

"You're only human," Hermione mumbled against his chest. She sighed as well. "We make quite a pair, don't we? Both in love with someone we can't have. Ginny isn't gay, and, whether or not Snape is I have no idea, but…" She trailed off.

"But even if he is, he would never look at me twice except with disgust," Harry finished for her. "Yes, we do make _quite_ a pair. However, we will have all Holiday to wallow in our self-pity. In fact," He pushed her away gently by her shoulders. "Hermione Granger, I invite you to wallow with me in the pit of despair known as a chocolate overload this Christmas. We can spend the Holiday here in the common room and do our homework while Dobby brings us all the ice cream and butterbeers we can want. I happen to have a mountainous pile of chocolate from the last trip to Hogsmeade, and I think together we could make quite a dent in it."

Hermione grinned at him. "You have yourself a date, Mister Potter." She swiped her fingers over his cheeks, wiping away his tear tracks. "For now, we should go to dinner."

Harry nodded and together the two Gryffindor Seventh Years made their way out of the common room and towards the Great Hall. Despite having Hermione as a source of support, Harry felt his shoulders slump further with each floor. No matter how glad he was to have his best friend at his side, he still felt horrible for what he'd forced Ginny to do (dump him, rather being a man and coming clean with her from the start), and he was still heartbroken over the loss of his dreams. By the time he and Hermione walked into the Great Hall, Harry looked as appropriately beaten down as someone who'd just been dumped should, and he couldn't bring himself to sit with Ron and Ginny. Hermione led him to the end of the table nearer to the Staff Table, and there they sat in their own little heartbroken bubble.


	5. Dating

Christmas came and went. Ginny had given Harry back the necklace as soon as she and Ron had returned to the school, claiming it was too much, and too harsh a reminder after their break-up of what she was missing out on. The very next Hogsmeade weekend, Harry had taken it back to the jewelry store and, because he was Harry Potter, the shop owner had given him a refund. Rather than pocket the refund, Harry had taken himself and Hermione to the beauty shop a little ways down the lane. His thought had been to treat Hermione to a spa day of sorts, since she couldn't outwardly express her own heartbreak as he could, but when the Beauty Wizard and Witches saw him, they had demanded that they be allowed to give him a makeover, free of charge. Harry, under Hermione's urging, had agreed. If it worked to make girls feel better, then why shouldn't it work for him?

"Geez, Harry, why couldn't you have looked like that when we were going out?" Ginny demanded as he and Hermione came into the Three Broomsticks.

Harry blushed, looking away. It'd been almost a month since school had resumed, and he still wasn't used to see Ginny so comfortable on Dean's arm. They had resumed their romance from Fifth Year within days of their return to Hogwarts, having apparently been Owling over Christmas. He still couldn't quite reconcile the girl who'd been in love with him with the girl who had moved on so quickly after their relationship had ended. He steeled himself and looked back up.

"They didn't do that much," He mumbled, walking over to the table where Ginny, Dean, Ron, Lavender, Luna, and Neville were sitting. "I feel like a peacock. But really, it's Hermione you should be looking at. They made her look like a model." He gently pushed his friend forward, who giggled and pulled off her hooded cloak, revealing her transformation.

Hermione's hair had been straightened and given highlights, and they'd given her some spells and product she could use to tame it. They'd taught her a few spells that would mimic Muggle make-up, and had even shown her how to wear her robes so that they accentuated her features better. With Harry they had only lengthened his hair, which showed off hidden red highlights, and changed the shape of his glasses to better fit the shape of his face and eyes. The Beauty Wizard had also given him a discount card for an Ocular Mediwizard in Diagon Alley, but Harry hadn't decided if he would use it or not. His father never had, but…Harry had long since stopped basing his decisions off of a man who'd had no trouble humiliating others the same way Harry had been humiliated his entire childhood.

"You _both_ look like models," Neville said earnestly, grinning.

The two made-over Gryffindors exchanged a self-conscious grin as they took the last two empty seats at the table. A little ways away, Harry noticed that Draco Malfoy and his cronies were at another table, Blaise and Pansy hanging on his every word as much as they were hanging on his arms. The blonde Slytherin caught his eye, and Harry blushed when that silver gaze swept over him appreciatively. Even being modest, Harry had to admit that the minor changes to his appearance had made him look less like a geeky, stooped version of his father and more like he was his own man; a very _attractive_ man.

Once more, as Harry turned to join the conversation at his own table, he could feel himself yearning to be loved by _someone_. He still hadn't forgotten Snape, but his break-up with Ginny had made him look harder at the boys in his year, especially the extremely hot Slytherin. Maybe he would never get Snape, but he couldn't be the only gay Seventh Year at Hogwarts. He'd already asked Seamus out, but the boy was apparently having affairs with a few other boys already, though he'd apparently been very flattered. At one point, over Christmas, he had suicidally considered asking Malfoy out, but he'd quickly cleared his mind of ever doing something so reckless. The last thing he needed was to add more fuel to Malfoy's fire.

Speaking of…

"What's Malfoy doing?" Ron asked suddenly, interrupting the group's discussion.

Harry looked around and saw that the Slytherin was moving in their direction, weaving in and out of the other tables with immaculate grace, his eyes pinned to the Wizarding Savior with a single raised eyebrow. Harry swallowed thickly as his schoolyard nemesis moved around their table to lean between the stools, his hand on the table and his face dangling above Harry's by mere inches.

"You look good, Potter," The slightly taller boy said in a silky drawl.

Harry couldn't help a blush as he ran a hand over his tied-back, shoulder-length hair. "Uh, thanks, I guess. What do you want, Malfoy?"

The blonde reached into his pocket, and you could feel the tension at the table snap as four different wands were suddenly pointed at the newcomer. Malfoy glanced around at Ron, Lavender, Neville, and Dean with a playful scoff, then returned his penetrating gaze to Harry. He withdrew his hand and held out a crudely transfigured chocolate biscuit in the shape of a heart.

"Be my Valentine?" The suave Slytherin inquired with a debonair smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's weeks away, Malfoy."

The taller boy shrugged. "No harm in getting a head start," He murmured, placing the pastry on the table. He leaned forward to whisper against Harry's ear. "It'll give me the chance to find out what you…" He placed an unexpected, light kiss on Harry's cheek. " _Like_."

The way he said 'like' suggested something wholly different than Harry's chocolate preference, and the Gryffindor couldn't help the shiver that crawled up his spine. He hid his reaction with a playful smirk as Malfoy straightened. The Slytherin raised a questioning, manicured eyebrow.

"Uh, I'm flattered, Malfoy, really, but, uh…" Harry stood up. "I find it highly unlikely that you could take the attention off yourself long enough to discover what my favorite ice cream is, nevermind what I like for Valentine's."

He started to walk to the bar to get a second round of butterbeers for him and his friends, glancing out the door as someone came in. The snow had started again. He felt someone come up alongside him and saw that Malfoy hadn't given up.

"Don't discount me so easily, Potter. I'm actually quite the attentive lover," Draco told him.

Harry scoffed. "So now you're not only presuming to ask me out, but you're assuming it'll lead to me being in your bed?"

"Not right away," Malfoy admitted with a shrug. "But, yeah, eventually. I'm kind of hard to resist."

"And yet, here I am," Harry replied calmly. " _Resisting._ "

Malfoy leaned against the bar as Harry gave Madam Rosmerta his order. He leaned in close so only Harry could hear. "Come on, Potter, exchange one Slytherin for another. I don't believe for a moment that you find Severus Snape more attractive than me."

Harry felt all of his color drain as he turned to the other boy sharply. "How could you possibly-"

"I have my ways, specifically observation. Don't worry, as far as I'm aware, Snape hasn't got any idea you have feelings for him. And, I'm willing to keep it that way…for a price," Malfoy said smoothly, brushing some crumbs off the counter and looking at Harry slyly out of the corner of his eye.

Harry glowered at the blonde. "What do you want?" He growled angrily.

Malfoy grinned. "Not much… _Harry_. A date, with you," He said.

"Is that it?"

"And a kiss," The Slytherin answered. "Right now, in front of everyone. It doesn't have to be anything special. It can even be on the cheek, since you're such a blushing virgin."

Harry groaned, glancing over to his friends, who were staring after him in concern. When he looked back at his enemy, the boy was leaning towards him, a delicate finger pointing to his high cheekbone. Somehow, having Malfoy think he was a blushing virgin (even if he _was_ ) was worse than Malfoy knowing about Snape. Steeling his nerves, Harry grabbed the Slytherin and pulled him forward into an earnest, mouth-on-mouth kiss. The slightly older Seventh Year immediately took control of the kiss, deepening it.

It was like nothing Harry had ever felt, the strength and…firmness causing Harry to melt even before he realized he was doing so. This was nothing like kissing Ginny had ever been. Kissing her had been enjoyable, but he'd never felt the spark he felt now. It was like his entire body was on fire, and when Malfoy pulled away he had to force himself not to follow those sensuous lips no matter how much he craved more. He blinked away the fog that had pervaded his mind, and saw Malfoy was leaning against the counter again, looking utterly composed.

The Gryffindor cleared his throat. "So, uh, you said something about a date?"

Malfoy chuckled. "I did. I take it you're interested?"

"Won't your girlfriend, and boyfriend, take issue with you taking out the Boy Who Lived?" Harry asked carefully, gesturing to the table full of Slytherins across the room from his friends.

Malfoy didn't even look. "I'm bored with them, they've known that for a while. One can only take ceaseless adoration for so long before they need something fresh and new, as I'm sure you know."

Harry, considering he had no option if he wanted to keep Snape from ever knowing his secret, gave a stiff nod. "Alright, fine, you get one date. Do you want to go now, or did you have something else in mind?"

Malfoy shrugged, his cool composure never breaking for even a fraction of a second. "Not now, I'm sure your friends are wondering what's gotten into you," He murmured. "Tonight at midnight, in the Astronomy Tower. Come alone, obviously."

"Why does this feel like a set up?" Harry asked sarcastically. "Oh, that's right, I already fell for that in _First Year_. Do I look like an idiot, Malfoy?"

"Well…" The boy answered with a playful smirk. Harry scowled, making the Slytherin chuckled. "It's not a gag, Potter, on my word as a Malfoy. Even if you don't respect my family name, you can take that kind of guarantee to the bank."

Harry sighed heavily through his nose. "I never said I didn't respect your family name, I just don't like what it stands for in the Wizarding World these days. Even _I_ know the role your ancestry has played in the history of our world, Malfoy, and _that_ I can respect."

This did break Malfoy's cool as the taller boy straightened up in surprise. "Really?"

"True and honest," Harry told him firmly. "I'm not the idiot you think I am, nor am I the prejudiced snob you and Ron are. Anyway, seeing as I have no other choice, I suppose I'll have to take your word, trust you as little as I do. I'll meet you tonight. If it _is_ a trap, though, then the deal's off, and in my favor. If you break your word, I'll make sure the whole school knows that you had to blackmail me into kissing you."

Malfoy held out his hand. "Deal, Potter."

Harry hesitated, but when he reached out to grab Malfoy's hand he was instantly glad he had. The taller boy had used their grasped hands as leverage to pull Harry into another mind-blowing kiss, this time with a liberal use of tongue. After only a moment, the boy turned away and left Harry alone to collect himself. By the time his breathing was under control, Rosmerta had returned with his drink orders. He giddily flipped her a galleon and took his armful of butterbeers back to the table. He had no idea what he was going to tell his friends, but he was pretty sure he might forget Snape completely if Malfoy kept kissing him like that.


	6. Day of Lovers

The Boy Who Lived climbed the ladder up to the Astronomy Tower with more trepidation than he'd had going to meet Voldemort. He'd promised himself he was going to play it cool, but now that he was faced with it, he was terrified. What if Malfoy had more stipulations for not telling Snape? Worse, what if he was serious about wanting a relationship? Harry had never been with a guy for…for anything. He'd never even kissed a guy before today (though, if it always felt that good, he hoped he'd be doing it a lot more in the future).

When Harry reached the trap door, he pushed it open and climbed into the fresh, chilled night air. His Invisibility Cloak was tucked into a hidden pocket in his robes, and instead he wore a thick black cloak that Hermione had bought him for Christmas. He pulled this tighter around him as he closed the trap door, flurries of snow dancing around his knees.

"What did you tell your friends?"

Harry had to stop himself from jumping in surprise as the voice came out of the dark. He turned and saw his pale nemesis meandering out of the shadows cast by the moonlight.

"I told them that I was rebounding after my first real relationship, claimed temporary insanity," He responded honestly.

Malfoy chuckled. "Well, that's not the best foot to start on for our first date."

"First?"

"We'll get to that."

"Look, Malfoy," Harry said angrily. "If you're going to try and blackmail me into going steady with you, it won't work. I'd rather deal with the backlash from Snape."

"Than go out with me?"

"Than be blackmailed into going out with you." Harry told him. "I haven't made up my mind on whether or not I'd go out with you of my own accord."

"Thus the purpose of this date," Malfoy said, gesturing extravagantly to the barren stone rooftop on which they stood.

Harry raised a doubtful eyebrow. "You're not about to try and convince me that, deep down, you're just a sweet kid who loves fluffy animals and wants nothing more than to be loved, are you? Because if that's the case, I can save you some time and call bullshit right now."

The Slytherin laughed. "Heh, no, I'm not sweet, nor am I looking for anything so serious as love. Though, I do love fluffy animals. I don't know why everyone has so much trouble believing I could have a place in my heart for animals. I'm the Ice Prince, I'm not made of _stone_."

"Could have something to do with you insulting a Hippogriff and then trying to get it killed when it retaliated," Harry said, still staring at him doubtfully.

"Yeah, okay," The Slytherin conceded. "I never said I wasn't vindictive." He gestured for Harry to follow and walked over to the lone platform that had once held an unknown statue.

Harry stepped after him and together they settled onto the pedestal, staring up at the sky. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each contemplating the universe in their own way. When a gust of wind blew past, the Gryffindor saw his Slytherin counterpart shiver under a cloak much lighter than his own. Rolling his eyes, he threw the end of his cloak over the other young man's shoulders like a blanket.

"So, what am I really doing up here?" He asked as the blonde snuggled into the warmth of his cloak.

"I told you, we're on a date, and I'm going to try and convince you to, in your words, 'go steady' with me," Draco told him plainly. "I've already told you that I'm not looking for anything so serious as love, and that I love animals. I could also mention that, if we were going out, you could kiss me almost whenever you wanted."

"And if I'm not interested in being your fuck buddy?"

Malfoy looked at him sharply. "This isn't about that. I've had my share of lovers, Potter, and that's not what I want from you. I saw the way you were with the Weasley girl, and that's what I want. You two didn't have to be joined at the hip, or having sex, for your relationship to be real. Like I said, I've had my share of lovers, and now I want something more…concrete."

Harry frowned. "But not love? That's an awfully thin line to walk. You can't have it both ways. You either put yourself into the relationship completely, or you don't. If you want what I had with Ginny, then you have to go into it with the intention of maybe falling in love. You don't actually _have_ to fall in love, but you have to be prepared for that eventuality. Otherwise, you're just kidding yourself and wasting my time," He explained. "You have to commit, and be willing to do what it takes to make the relationship work, even if it means putting my needs before your own."

"I can do that," Draco insisted.

"Can you?" Harry asked earnestly. "I'm willing to give you a chance, but I need to know that you're going to be as invested in the relationship as I am."

"I can," The blonde swore. "And I can even ignore the fact that you've got feelings for someone other than me. I guess, what this really is, is an experiment. I need to know if I can commit to someone, and you need an outlet to explore your newfound sexuality."

The Gryffindor blushed, smiling shyly. "Am I that obvious?"

Malfoy nodded. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, though, Harry. There are people who know from a young age that they're attracted to the same sex, but there are also a lot of people like you and me who discover it later on. There are even cases of people not figuring it out until they're well into their adulthood."

"Thanks…Draco," Harry muttered. "I guess it won't be so bad, going out with you. You're not the complete ass you make yourself out to be." He raked his eyes over the Slytherin's toned body. "And you're pretty hot, so at least I'll have something nice to look at."

"Yeah," Malfoy sniffed with dignity. "Yeah, I am pretty hot."

Harry couldn't help a laugh that dispelled what little tension was left. He nudged the blonde's shoulder. "Ponce."

Malfoy nudged him back. "Tosser."

Their eyes met and for the next several minutes nothing else existed but them. Again, Malfoy deepened the kiss, and Harry followed him cautiously down the rabbit hole. Thoughts of what kissing Snape might be like tried to invade his mind, but the Gryffindor forced them away angrily before he could become consumed by the depression those thoughts carried with them. He could only hope that dating his own sex would help diminish his god forsaken attraction to the Potions Master several floors below.

SSHP

For the next three weeks, Harry went out with Draco. They held hands through the corridors, kissed whenever they had a moment to themselves, and helped each other with their studies. They were the talk of the school, and for once Harry didn't mind. He found that, despite his misgivings, he really like being with Malfoy. He made him laugh, and every once in a while he would do something terribly sweet and thoughtful that Harry would forget about his feelings for the other boy's Head of House, if only for a few hours.

Malfoy had even made an effort to be nice to Harry's friends. And Harry found he had a lot more in common with the Slytherins than he'd ever imagined. So much, in fact, that a few of them chose to get to know him and his friends on a deeper level; the group who gathered under a tree by the lake to talk and study grew exponentially as Nott, Greengrass, and Davis came to join them, bringing their own friends from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

Come Valentine's, Harry awoke with the feeling that he and Malfoy were well on their way to having a real relationship, and not just an experiment. As he swung his legs off the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the Boy Who Lived was greeted by a huge bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates on his night stand that dwarfed the pile of Valentine's at the end of his bed. With a grin, (and a little relief after he'd spent an entire Hogsmeade weekend looking in every shop for the perfect gift for a blossoming relationship) he grabbed the envelope off the box of chocolates. The letter inside at first appeared blank, but as Harry stared at it, a beautiful, drifting scrawl began to appear.

 _Morning, Beautiful,_

 _On this, the day of lovers, I give to you a bouquet to match your beauty, and a box of chocolates in the hopes that you will always stay sweet._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

Harry scoffed at the sappy letter. Draco had apparently taken the idea of investing himself in the relationship more seriously than he'd expected. The letter, sweet as it was, seemed like something meant for a girl, or a much more flamboyantly gay man than either of them were. Still it was a sweet thought, and Harry did love getting chocolates that he knew hadn't been poisoned.

As the Boy Who Lived went about dressing for the day, he couldn't help but let his eyes and mind wander to the letter and beautiful gifts till sitting on his bedside table. Ginny had never wanted to celebrate Valentine's. This had likely been because she could ill afford to give him much of anything on any Holiday, but it still felt nice to be with someone who could make him look forward to a day he normally hated. He headed down to breakfast on feet that felt somewhat lighter than they had of late.


	7. Day of Disaster

Later that day, Harry was sitting under the tree by the lake, staring at the thawing waters as he waited for his friends. Draco and Hermione had Arithmancy following lunch, but everyone else was free and would be coming along shortly. He still had the letter, securely tucked away in his pocket, and even he had to admit that he probably looked like a lovesick loon every time he remembered it was there, or thought of the roses and chocolates waiting for him in his dorm. He didn't love Draco, but if the boy kept this up much longer, he felt that he very well could.

Harry looked up as someone sat beside him. He frowned when he realized that it was Hermione.

"Aren't you and Drake supposed to be in class?" He asked the girl as she settled her skirt around her knees. They had long since learned the spells to clear the snow out from under the tree and dry out the ground for them to sit upon.

"Professor Vector had to cancel class," The witch explained. "Someone thought they'd be clever and cast a spell to fill the air with flying paper hearts. But they did the spell wrong and now her classroom is full of them, and they're attacking anything that moves. She had cuts all over her from trying to cast the counter-charm, and it doesn't seem to be working. So she cancelled class, and then sent a Ravenclaw to let Professor Flitwick know she needed him at his earliest convenience."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I wish people would stop trying to impress their loved ones with spells they haven't ever practiced. Sorry your class got cancelled."

Hermione shrugged, tucking her legs closer as a gust of wind blew a flurry of snow past their tree. "It's alright, I guess. Malfoy was happy, though, because we were supposed to have a quiz. He said he was going to the Library to study, since he'd been given the opportunity."

They sat in silence for a long moment, Harry chewing at his lip as he stared out over the lake. After a few minutes, Hermione gave a long suffering sigh.

"Oh, go on, Harry," She said. "You don't have to stay here with me. Ron and the others will be out here any minute, and I'd rather be alone than watch you argue with yourself over whether or not to go find your boyfriend."

Harry shot to his feet, but not before leaning over to place a kiss on his best friend's cheek. "You're the best, Hermione. I'll see you in Potions?"

"Try to stay out of trouble!" The girl shouted after him, laughing.

The Seventh Year grinned back before racing towards the castle. He took the stone steps two at a time and hurried to the second floor. When he reached the Library he slowed to a walk and stood at the entrance catching his breath until he got a dark look from Madam Pince. When he was certain he didn't look like he'd been running, he calmly wandered through the stacks, his heart racing as he thought of what he and Draco could get up to in the hour before class, hidden by row upon row of book shelves.

He found Draco in a dark corner at the very back of the Library, near the gates that hid the Restricted Section. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw that his boyfriend was not alone. He and Pansy Parkinson were locked together against one of the book shelves in what appeared to be a very violent tongue-wrestling match. Harry felt some small part of his heart chip away as he watched his boyfriend, who had claimed he wanted commitment, eagerly betray their relationship.

"Well, I guess that answers your question about your predilection for commitment," He said, startling the pair apart. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. You always were too self-absorbed to give up on…what did you call it? Ceaseless adoration?"

Draco smirked, but he couldn't hide a guilty blush. "Come on, Harry, don't say that. This-this was just a little indiscretion, is all. Pansy gave me a very thoughtful Valentine, I had to thank her."

Harry scowled. "I received gifts from all my friends, including your Slytherin buddies. Should I thank all of them with my tongue down their throat?"

The blonde groaned. "It's not like that, Harry, I just-"

"Don't bother, Drake, I know exactly what this is," Harry told him firmly, turning away. "Experiment's over. Have a happy flipping Valentine's." He walked back through the stacks without looking back at the wayward Slytherin.

Despite their relationship being as short as it was, Harry couldn't help feeling betrayed. He'd thought that, over the last few weeks, he'd seen a different side of Draco, a pleasanter, more attractive side. It hurt to find out that he'd been fooled so completely by the stupid prick. Not wanting to face his friends, Harry walked down to the dungeons to wait for his next class. Even standing alone in a cold corridor outside his unrequited's classroom seemed a better prospect than having to explain to his friend's why he was so upset; especially when he didn't actually know why. He should have expected this from the start.

SSHP

Harry was stood against the dungeon wall, glaring at his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally listed all of the little gifts Draco had given him and decided what was worth keeping. The Slytherin had been an incurable romantic, and had given Harry some note, poem, or trinket almost every day since they'd started going out. He was keeping the chocolates, but he smirked darkly as he imagined tossing the rest out the window in his dorm. With the roses, it would all make a very lovely pile of compost at the base of Gryffindor Tower.

"Potter."

The Gryffindor started so badly that he walloped his head against the stone wall of the corridor. He gave the Potions Master a chagrined smile, rubbing at the lump now growing on the back of his skull. The man only stared at him, obviously expecting an answer to some unknown question.

"Er, hi, Professor…I was just-"

"Loitering, obviously," The man interrupted impatiently. "Shouldn't you be outside, celebrating this nauseating holiday with Mister Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged, staring at his shoes. "Nah, he…he had better things to do."

The Gryffindor chanced a glance up when he heard the Potions Master give a nasal sigh. The taller, older wizard was pinching the bridge of his nose in what Harry guessed was annoyance. He looked away when the man looked on him again.

"What has that idiot boy done now?"

Harry shrugged again, still rubbing at the back of his head, mussing his long hair. The knob was _really_ starting to hurt. "Nothing unexpected. I don't want to talk about it."

Snape didn't respond, only continued to the door of his classroom and lowered the wards. Harry watched from the corner of his eye as the man walked into his classroom and closed the door, apparently done pretending to give a damn about his student. The Gryffindor huffed, returning to his perusal of the hair on his crossed arms. He was starting to think today was the day of "What'd you expect" rather than the day of "I love you".

Just as Harry was settling into a proper, deep sulk, the door across from him opened again so quickly that he was almost startled into smacking his head again. The Seventh Year looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway, surveying him.

"In." The man said at last, stepping slightly to the side.

Harry frowned. "What?"

The Potions Master raised an imperious eyebrow in response, and only stood there with the door open. Harry, confused but hopeful, picked up his bag and scurried through the open door into the empty classroom. He looked around nervously as Snape brushed past him and started walking to the front of the room. He stopped by the front-most student desk and placed a potion phial on the polished (thanks to Harry) tabletop.

"Sit," The man commanded without looking around.

Harry, still confused, hurried to the stool in front of the desk. He sat down uncertainly, and looked at the phial. It didn't look dangerous, but he'd learned early on that Potions didn't have to look as dangerous as they were. There was a mild poison that would lay up the strongest wizard for days, and it smelled like candy floss.

"For your head."

This surprised the Gryffindor. "Oh, uh…thanks."

The man only grunted from behind his own desk, where he was spelling the class's instructions onto the large blackboard. Harry sighed, still unsure about the man's sudden detached kindness, but willing to take what he could get. Anything to make this day worth having gotten out of bed for. He unstoppered the potion and swallowed it with a grimace. As soon as he had finished and set it back on the desk, it was swept up by impossibly long fingers. The empty phial disappeared into the dark robes as Harry looked up at the imposing figure standing over him.

"Now, talk."

Harry couldn't help another frown. "About what?"

Snape turned away and went back to his desk. "About whatever it is that is bothering you, Potter."

"Seriously?" Harry scoffed. "Since when do you-" He stopped short when he was sent a dark glare. He cleared his throat. "I-I mean, what's your interest?"

The Potions Master didn't answer as he settled himself at his desk, and Harry was almost convinced that he wouldn't until the man finally spoke.

"I am a Head of House and professor at this school, Potter. As such, as the Headmaster is so fond of telling me, I am obligated to guide and counsel all of the students in this school as much as my own House," Snape said blandly. "As you obviously have no intention of going to your Head of House with this issue, it is left to me to be sure you aren't contemplating throwing yourself off of the Astronomy Tower."

Harry couldn't help a chuckle, which he stifled when he received another glare. "That's-no, I-I'm not," He snorted. "I don't mean to insult Malfoy, but we'd only been dating a few weeks and he isn't nearly as cavalier as one might think. I mean, I'm hurt, but I'm not heartbroken, and I'm definitely not suicidal."

Snape raised a dubious eyebrow that made Harry blush. Technically, every time he'd gone after Voldemort had been suicidal. It was apparently a complex, and he was working on that.

"You know what I mean," Harry said quietly.

"Indeed," The Potions Master answered, looking away again. "Well, I have done my part as your professor. You may talk about it, or you can sit there quietly until your class begins. The choice is yours."

Harry sighed and looked down at the desk he sat at. It was the last one he had finished the night he'd polished them, though there were obviously new stains. His fingers automatically found the invisible spot of grime he'd been unable to buff out. He ducked his head to hide his blush when he involuntarily recalled the feel of Snape pressed up against him and his body reacted to it.

He cleared his throat to stop the tremble he felt in his jaw. "We, uh…Draco and I, we weren't really dating. I sort of knew that from the start. He wanted to find out if he could commit in a relationship, and I told him that, if he thought he could really invest himself, I'd give him a chance," Harry explained. "I guess I'm more hurt about the fact that I believed him than I am that he betrayed our relationship." He stopped and swallowed thickly as those black eyes watched him from beneath the imposing, pale brow. He had to look away before he did or said something impulsive. "I-I found Draco in the Library after lunch. Professor Vector had cancelled her class today because of someone's stupid idea of a Valentine's prank, and Hermione had told me that he'd gone to the Library to study for the test they were supposed to have had. I went looking for him, since today is supposed to be a day for lovers, or some rot…and, I suppose, because ever since we started dating, I'd really come to like the boy behind the Malfoy mask. But when I found him he wasn't alone. He was making out with another Slytherin."

Snape was silent for a long, tense moment, his face utterly devoid of emotion. "I see."

Harry huffed a humorless laugh. "Yeah…so I dumped him. He tried to make excuses, but I'm not an idiot, nor am I the type to be fooled twice. He didn't even try to apologize. Even in an experimental relationship, I deserve better than that."

Again, Snape remained silent when his student had finished. Harry occupied himself with the damned spot on the table, scratching at it with his manicured nails, a byproduct of going out with a boy obsessed with appearances. After what felt like an eternity, Harry heard the sound of students gathering outside the classroom. He looked up and had to smother a desire to jump. Snape was standing beside his desk, staring down at him with consternation.

"I am sorry, Potter, that you have been thusly mistreated."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, his breath coming shorter with the man so close. "Like I said, I'm more hurt that I fell for his lies than I am about his cheating. I should've known from the get-go that he could never completely commit to someone other than himself."

Snape gave another one of his little grunts of acknowledgement before walking to the door and opening it to allow the rest of Harry's class entry. Hermione was among the first in, and she immediately came over to sit beside him. Harry grinned at her abashedly.

"What's this, then?"

"What's what?" The Boy Who Lived asked innocently.

His friend narrowed her eyes at him. "Snape doesn't let anyone come to class early, and you never sit at the front anyway. Besides, weren't you supposed to be with Draco? He walked up with Pansy looking a bit like someone had told him his hair was out of place."

Harry looked over his shoulder and sought out the blonde Slytherin a few tables behind him. Draco smirked at him, feigning cool, and Harry harrumphed, turning back to the invisible spot. Hermione nudged his shoulder curiously.

"I'll tell you later," The Wizarding Savior muttered darkly. "Suffice to say that me and Malfoy are through."

"Alright, Harry…but you'd better give me the full story eventually," The intelligent witch bartered in a low whisper.

Harry nodded as Snape closed the door to the classroom and walked through the aisle to the teacher's desk at the front. He turned sharply, and the second he did, the class stilled and quieted to the point you could hear a wand drop. Harry had to hide a shiver as those dark eyes glided over him before staring at the rest of the class.

"Malfoy!"

"Sir?"

"Detention, for gross misuse of school resources, and 10 points from Slytherin for disgracing your House," The Potions Master said calmly, his silky voice rolling like a wave over the shocked students. It was the first time any of them had heard the stoic man take points from his own House.

Harry felt himself melt a little. It shouldn't have made him feel better; it shouldn't have made up for six and a half years of verbal torture, but somehow it did. When they were excused to gather the necessary ingredients for today's potion, Harry was privy to a small smirk, meant just for him, as the Potions Master moved around to sit behind his desk. And just like that, his dormant feelings for Severus Snape were renewed.


	8. Departure

For the next few months, Harry and his friends grew closer to their new Slytherin comrades, despite his break-up with Draco. Come the Leaving Feast they were as close as if they had never been anything else but friends. Harry even suspected that there was something going on between Daphne Greengrass and his best friend, but when asked, Hermione would only change the subject.

Beyond that, though, there had not been any new advances on the Slytherin front. Specifically, after that one class where Snape had subtly defended Harry's honor, the man had returned to being his usual self. This was still nowhere near as cruel or abusive as he had been in years past, his attitude having become more dismissive than anything since the fall of the Dark Lord, but it was still heart-wrenching for Harry.

After that day in Potions, he had allowed himself to hope as he scarcely had before. It had taken a little more than a week for that hope to die a painful death. Snape wouldn't even acknowledge that he had done anything, nevermind acknowledging Harry's gratitude. Harry had taken to moments of morose bitterness following this discovery that nothing had changed. So much so, in fact, that Theo had noticed the attraction.

"Come on, Harry," Theodore coaxed, Hermione at his side. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"He'd kill me," Harry answered, completely serious.

Hermione scoffed laughingly. "No he won't, Harry, you're being a drama queen. Look, write it in a letter if you have to, but you can't _not_ tell him. We're leaving Hogwarts forever tomorrow."

Harry stood up from under the tree. "I can, Hermione. It's not going to happen! He'll never feel the same, and I'm not giving him the chance to strip me of what little dignity I have left!"

"But, Harry-"

"Leave it alone!" Harry turned to walk away, but found himself being dragged backwards by two arms linked with his. Ginny and Tracey were holding onto his arms, and Malfoy was following closely as Harry was thrown lightly against the tree. Together, the four friends and Malfoy surrounded him.

"You're telling him, Harry," Draco commanded.

Harry scoffed in disbelief. "Why the hell should I listen to you?"

"Because he's right," The other four said simultaneously.

Malfoy sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Look, Harry, I messed up with you, I know that. But in those few weeks, you showed me a side of myself that I didn't know existed. You made me _want_ to be a better man than my father is. I befriended _Gryffindors_ because of you, because it made you smile!" He said earnestly. "I know I was a shit, but you have to know that you're _worth_ _it_ , that making you smile, or laugh, or blush is a task that anyone who knows you would do _anything_ to make happen."

Harry shook his head. "But, even if that were true, Snape _doesn't_ know me. He doesn't want to. Why should my telling him how I feel make any difference?"

Ginny smacked his arm. "Like Malfoy said, you're worth it, Harry. And maybe telling him will make him want to find that out. Aren't you always the one to take the longshot?"

The Boy Who Lived felt cowed under the glares of his friends. He didn't even know how Tracey and Ginny had found out about his feelings, but under their combined scrutiny he felt he had little choice. He was, after all, a Gryffindor, and he couldn't let his friends think he was more afraid of a little rejection than he'd been of the Dark Lord.

Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll write the damn letter." Immediately, parchment, quill, and ink, were shoved into his hands. He glanced around at his eager friends. "Are you going to watch me write it, too?"

"We're going to _help_ you write it," Hermione said, transfiguring a rock from the lake's beach into a suitable table.

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing once more as the group sat around him. They spent the next hour before the Leaving Feast choosing or rejecting anecdotes they all had until at last they had a well-worded letter in Harry's messy scrawl. He had sternly refused any poetry they offered, since it was entirely out of character for him, and yet the finished product seemed to him to be more poetry than letter. Upon sealing the letter, it had been snatched from his hands by Theo, who demanded he be allowed to take it and slide it under Snape's office door himself. All but Harry agreed, apparently not willing to trust the Boy Who Lived to deliver the note himself.

The next morning, Harry climbed into the carriages without saying a word to his friends. At Breakfast, Snape had looked at him once, and Harry had felt his heart plummet when the man had looked away just as quickly. There had been no words, no glare, not even a sneer, but in that second's glance, Harry had felt the subtle, silent rejection. Snape didn't want him, and Harry left Hogwarts that day assured that he could now move on. He knew this because, along with a few school texts, he had left any hopes he had had for the future in the stone castle…and the stone gaze of its resident Potions Master.


	9. Discovery

The Boy Who Lived returned to Hogwarts a changed man five years later. He had let his hair grow longer, now reaching almost to the middle of his back, and had finished filling out his Quidditch toned body. Immediately upon leaving Hogwarts, Theo had set Harry up with a Defense Master through his uncle, who'd been neutral during the war. In the five years that followed, Harry had apprenticed with Master Chan Tho, and traveled with her, learning and mastering different forms of Defense from all over the world.

It had come as no surprise when, on the day he had earned his very own Mastery, Harry received a letter from the new Headmistress of Hogwarts asking him to take over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He had, of course, immediately accepted. In all the World, the many countries he had seen and studied in, Harry had never found a place that felt more like home than Hogwarts did.

So he returned. His first week back, he was re-introduced to Draco who had accepted a post as Charms professor, and Hermione, who had taken over Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor (which he had already known from her letters). He also found that most professors were already returned from their vacations, including one Severus Snape, Potions Master extraordinaire. Luckily, the man seemed to be perpetually locked in his dungeons, restoring the potions in the Hospital Wing, so, without formal meals, Harry had yet to be faced with the man.

During his travels, Harry had failed at forgetting the former Death Eater. It had seemed as if the man's name followed him everywhere. He'd been shocked to discover that, whilst the man taught at the most prodigious school in Wizarding Britain, he was also an international sensation in Potions and Defense circuits. Snape was a respected reviewer (and corrector, to no one's surprise) of new potions in three different Potions journals, and was known to, every few years, come out with a new invention of his own. Oft times, especially during the time of the Dark Lord's looming threat, his Potions were useful as tools in Defense.

Harry was walking towards Gryffindor Common Room when Draco stopped him.

"Hey, Potter, wait up."

The former Gryffindor turned as the blonde came jogging down the corridor towards him. The Malfoy heir gave Harry his best debonair grin as he came to a gasping stop in front of his quarry.

"You are quite a hard man to find," Draco said, sucking air into his lungs as fast as he was dispelling it. "Took me forever to get Granger to tell me where you were."

Harry rolled his eyes and resumed his journey towards Gryffindor. "I'm not surprised, if you went to her smelling like that. Most people don't drink this early, Drake, especially not professors."

"Don't be a snob, Harry," The former Slytherin said good-naturedly. "It was just a little liquid courage."

Harry looked at the blonde out of the corner of his eye. "Hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but you aren't Hermione's type."

"T'wasn't for her, you knob," Draco slurred slightly.

Harry braced himself as Malfoy suddenly turned and pushed him against the wall. He didn't want to hurt the Charms professor, and most of his training had him doing just that if he tried to dislodge himself. He glared at the blonde.

"What're you doing, Draco?"

"I want you back, Harry," The Slytherin breathed, his face close enough that Harry could smell the firewhiskey on his breath. "You grown even more attractive since we left Hogwarts, and I have missed your kisses."

The Gryffindor scoffed. "You have _got_ to be joking, Malfoy. We went out for _three weeks_ in our Seventh Year, and I found you cheating on me on _Valentine's Day_. You can't seriously think that five years apart has made me forget that?" Harry demanded. The former Slytherin loosened his grip guiltily and Harry pushed him away. "What are you thinking, Draco?"

The slightly taller wizard's cool was shattered, likely helped along by the alcohol wreaking havoc with his system. "I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"No, I-I mean for cheating on you. I never should've abandoned our relationship, but I was so _horny_ , and you sure as hell weren't about to give it up," Malfoy whined.

Harry scowled. "First off, that is the worst excuse for cheating that I have ever heard. Secondly, it doesn't matter _why_ you did it. I'd already moved on by the time we left on the Hogwarts Express, and I'm sure as hell not going to rehash that dead romance now," He told the pouting blonde firmly. "You may think yourself irresistible, but you're not. Now leave me alone. Come talk to me again when you're sober and we can discuss being _friends_." He moved around the Slytherin, continuing his trek to Gryffindor, when his arm was grabbed.

"I'm not giving up, Harry. No one says 'no' to me," Draco growled angrily. "I'm a Malfoy, I always get what I want."

"Merlin, you're moody when you're drunk," Harry muttered as the other wizard's grip tightened on his wrist. He twisted his hand around in the hold, then used it as leverage to spin the Slytherin around, yanking the pale arm back and up, between his shoulder blades.

"Ow, Harry, ow, ow, stop!"

"Are you going to calm down?"

"Yes! You're hurting me!"

"Weren't you just trying to hurt _me_?" Harry demanded. "I'm not fourteen anymore, Malfoy, and I'm not going to put up with being bullied anymore, not by anyone."

"Well said, Potter."

Harry jumped, releasing his year-mate in surprise. All of his training, and he hadn't been able to sense the man coming up behind him. He felt that ancient fire begin to spark low in his belly, his desire returning like a forgotten flood. Using his training to calm his mind, he turned to face the smirking Potions Master.

Black eyes met his, raking over his body in a flash. "Malfoy, go and get yourself sobered up. You are a professor of this school, and even if the students are not here, I expect you to act like one." Snape said, not taking his eyes off of Harry's.

"Yes, Professor Snape," The blonde muttered sulkily.

Harry heard the other wizard scamper away, leaving him and his heart's desire alone in the corridor. "It's been awhile, Professor." The Gryffindor said, hiding his racing heart behind a debonair smirk.

"It has, Potter. Come." Snape said calmly, his own smirk never slipping.

He turned down an adjoining corridor, and Harry was immediately tempted to follow. However, his purpose, and the memory of the harsh rejection he'd suffered the last time, stopped him.

"I can't," Harry said aloud to the retreating form. Snape spun on his heel to face him curiously. "I promised Hermione I'd give the Gryffindor Common Room and dorms a once-over. Apparently, she heard some rumors last year that a few of the Seventh Years were planning to leave booby traps for the First Years, and she hasn't had a chance to go and look for them yet."

Snape looked at him doubtfully, and Harry shrugged. The smirk returned immediately.

"Then I shall join you, Potter. As Deputy Headmaster, I should've been made aware of the potential threat, in any case. I shall help you search," Snape said.

Harry shrugged again. "Your choice, but don't blame me if you get hit with one of the pranks. I can't protect you from what I don't know is there."

"I shall endeavor to avoid triggering anything, then."

Harry chuckled and started to lead the way towards Gryffindor, a little giddy about, for once, leading Snape, rather than following along like a kicked dog. It felt perfectly alright that they were now on even-footing. No more looming threat of lost points, or endless detentions, Harry could finally say whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, his glee was short-lived, as he realized that this was of no use now. The past was just that, and Harry had no intention of insisting the man apologize for ancient history. Besides, Harry could see little of that abusive, dismissive professor in the man who walked beside him now. This was a different man, as much as Harry was different; there were little hints of their past selves buried behind the new, and essentially they were the same deep down, but outwardly they were not at all the same people. Peace changed people as much as war did.

They reached the Fat Lady, who immediately opened for them before Harry could remember that he'd forgotten to ask Hermione for the password. She greeted them both as Professors of Hogwarts, and for the first time since coming back to the school, Harry actually felt like one. It was strange, the things that adjusted your perspective. He'd been working on his lesson plans for over a week, and it had taken a portrait for him to finally accept his new role.

Inside the common room, Harry immediately set to searching all of the usual places for pranks, places that Fred and George had favored especially, since they were likely the ones to have provided any potential prank items. He checked the flue, the windows, and under every chair, couch, or table, making a small pile of the few items he found. Some were definitely pranks, which he immediately neutralized, but a few were simply items that had been overlooked by the House Elves. After finishing with the last table and dumping the last of the trash and pranks onto the pile, he looked around the room to gauge whether or not he had missed anywhere. That's when he noticed Snape was still standing by the door.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping?" He asked. He couldn't help a small smile when the man only smirked.

"I was, but I became distracted." Snape admitted.

Harry was surprised by this. It had never occurred to him that the man was human to admit to his own failings. He was struck again with how much everything had changed since he left Hogwarts.

"O-kay…Is something wrong? If you remembered something you should be doing, or somewhere you need to be, I'm perfectly capable of checking the dorms myself," Harry said.

"I have nowhere I need to be," The Potions Master answered simply.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little impatient as he walked over to the couch in front of the monstrous fireplace. He hadn't checked the couch cushions.

"Well, if nothing's wrong, then-"

"I got your letter," Snape said abruptly.

Harry felt a sliver of ice trickle down his spine. He had sent no mail to the man in his absence from Britain, and he knew immediately which letter he was referring to. He turned to face his coworker nonchalantly. Nervously, he chose to feign ignorance.

"What letter would that be?" He asked innocently, trying and failing to hide his nervousness.

Snape started towards him slowly. "The only letter you have ever written me, though I have never been convinced that those were your words alone." He answered gruffly. "I didn't find it until after you and your friends had left on the train home."

Harry froze with sudden understanding. "Y-you didn't-"

"No, Harry…I had no idea when you left that you returned my feelings," The Potions Master said, closing the distance between them. He drew Harry to him, with a firm hand on his bicep, drawing him into the encompassing strength of his arms.

Harry found that he suddenly couldn't breathe. " _Returned_ …? Oh, Merlin, I never even thought-"

"I figured," Snape murmured.

Their lips met in a literal flash, their magic sparking between them. Harry immediately melted into the kiss. He was no longer the inexperienced child he had been when he'd been with Malfoy, but somehow all of his experience amounted to nothing as he lost himself in the feel of Snape's mouth on his. He had always taken control after his disastrous first attempt at a gay relationship, associating the loss of control with Malfoy's betrayal, but he gave up that control now, willingly. He felt Snape pushing him back towards the arm of the couch, and at first let himself be guided into sitting on the edge. When the man started to push him back further, over the arm, he tried and failed to stop them mid-fall.

"Wait, I haven't checked the-"

 _Pwoof_

"Cushions."

Harry snickered as the smoke cleared and he could see again. He and Snape were spattered with purple dye. It was an invention Fred and George had been working on in Harry's Seventh Year, meant to mimic ink blotches but on a larger scale…and, when they'd still been working on it, you'd needed an antidote potion to wash the dye out of whatever it had touched. He could hold his laughter back no longer when Snape bowed his head in defeat, shifting around to sit on the deflated cushion after shoving Harry's legs out of the way.

"Sorry…I imagine this isn't how you wanted this to go…" Harry murmured, still trying to stifle his laughter.

"Not in the least," Snape growled, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Harry studied the man carefully. He had found, in his travels, that mishaps like this didn't _have_ to ruin the mood if you didn't let them. He didn't see why this circumstance had to be any different, just because it was revelatory rather than exploratory. His decision made, Harry stood up long enough to straddle the Potions Master's legs. He gently tugged the man's stained hands away from his stained face.

"Purple is definitely your color, Severus," The Gryffindor whispered before leaning in to capture those sensual lips in a searing kiss. This time he did take the lead, their tongues rolling together in a delicate tango, and he was pleasantly surprised when Snape let him. If the man was as willing to compromise elsewhere, Harry could see this being a very happy union.


	10. Due Date

"Harry! The baby's coming now!" Ginny screamed through the house.

The Defense Master slid on the carpet down the hall, skidding right past the stairs with his arms full of the bags they had put together weeks ago. He braced himself as he crashed violently into his bedroom door.

"I'm coming, Gin!" He shouted to the very pregnant woman standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He came stumbling down the stairs, and almost crashed into Hermione, who was coaxing Ginny into the breathing exercises. He handed the bags off to his friend and wrapped an arm around the mother of his children, continuing the breathing exercises she'd already been doing. Hermione followed them into the sitting room and set the bags down long enough to throw the floo powder into the fire.

"Don't worry, Harry, Daphne and I can watch the boys," The bushy-haired witch assured him. She passed the bags back into his arms.

Harry thanked her before leading Ginny into the glowing green flames. They landed in the waiting room at St. Mungo's and Harry immediately grabbed the nearest nurse, who flagged down a mediwitch in turn. They were then quickly led to the delivery room, where Ginny immediately situated herself onto the bed as another contraction wrenched her body.

"Can't you give her something for the pain?" Harry shouted over Ginny's scream.

The Mediwitch pushed past him. "We're working on it, Sir. Just give us a moment. For now, why don't you set your stuff down and try to be supportive?"

Harry realized he was still holding the bags, and he set them down in an armchair in the corner before going to the pregnant witch's bedside. He grabbed her hand as she resumed her irregular breathing, and she gripped it back, hard.

"How do you feel?" He asked stupidly.

"Trying not to laugh," Ginny told him, relaxing when the contraction ended. "We've done this twice already, and you still have a heart attack every time. I think it's hilarious."

Harry huffed indignantly. "I'm pretty sure it's my prerogative to panic a little. No matter how many times we do this, something can always go wrong."

Ginny groaned as another contraction ripped through her, gratefully taking the potion she was handed by the nurse. "Heh, a little? I told you not to read those damned pregnancy books."

"I had to stay informed," Harry argued.

Ginny sagged again as the contraction ended. She grinned at him. "You forgot something, Harry."

The Wizarding Savior looked immediately to the corner with the bags, mentally running through the list she'd made him memorize of what they'd need. He came up empty on what he'd missed. "But, I didn't-" He turned back to see her lift a perilous eyebrow, and suddenly realized what he'd forgotten…perhaps the most important thing that, by chance, hadn't been on the list. He stood from his kneeling position and tried to dislodge his hand from hers. "I am so _dead_." She finally relaxed her fingers enough for him to pull his hand free and he leaned over the bed to place a tender kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Gin. Really, I do. I'll be right back, swear."

"You better, Harry!" The red-head cried after him as he raced out of the room and down the corridor.

Much as he had at home, he skidded into the waiting room and leapt ahead of the line waiting to use the floo. "Sorry, it's important!" He shouted as he threw the floo powder into the fireplace and gave his destination.

As he whirled above the fireplaces of London, he mentally smacked himself several times for forgetting…again. He landed in his office at Hogwarts and threw himself out of the room to race through the corridors as if he had a herd of Dementors on his tail. When he reached the Entrance Hall, he came to a skidding halt inches from the Headmistress, who was standing at the base of the stairs.

"I know, Minerva, professors aren't supposed to run through the corridors, but I swear to you, it's absolutely vital that I get to your Potions Master right now," Harry told her in a single breath.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You forgot your husband again, didn't you?"

Harry could feel a blush suffusing his face. "Not so much forgot, as failed to recall…" He said lightly.

"Three times, Harry! Three pregnancies, and you have yet to remember to tell your husband when the baby is coming!"

"I know but- Do we have to talk about this _now_ , Headmistress? I'm kind of in a hurry."

The matronly witch narrowed her eyes before stepping out of his way. "Go on, run like the wind, Harry. But you and I are going to have a talk about your priorities, young man!"

Harry grinned as he ran down the stairs to the dungeons. "That's if there's anything of me left once Severus is through with me!" He shouted back, only half-joking.

Every time Ginny had come due, he had gotten to the hospital and had to be reminded that his husband didn't yet know that their baby was coming. After the first time, he'd tried to convince Hermione to inform the surly Potions Master on his behalf, since she made it her duty to tell everyone else, but Snape had poo-poohed that idea. Apparently, it was a symbol of their love that Harry be the one to tell him. Harry felt that it would be a better symbol of their love if the man took the bleeding week off like Harry did whenever it came close to the due date, so he didn't _have_ to remember to tell him.

Harry slammed into the door of the Potions Classroom, having forgotten to turn the knob in his hurry. When he opened the door, two boys who were obviously in detention were staring at him, but his husband had failed to look up from the papers on his desk. Harry moved towards the man, silently mouthing to the boys to go.

"Stay where you are, Higgs and Boson, Professor Potter is not in charge of your detention, I am," Snape said, still without looking up.

The Gryffindor came to a stop in front of the desk and leaned on his hands. "Severus-"

"Harry, I am overseeing a detention. I swear, if you've come to get me because James managed to use the facilities by himself _again_ , I will not be happy," The man said quietly, still grading the essay before him.

Harry slammed his hand down on the essay, grabbing the Head of Slytherin's attention. "Severus, it's _time_." He said meaningfully. He watched as realization slowly crested over the stern features, softening them immensely. With quick, agile movements, the Potions Master was out of his chair and grabbing his cloak from the hook near his desk.

"You boys are dismissed. _Don't_ disrupt my class again!" Severus growled at the two Second Years. Both boys nodded animatedly and left the classroom as fast as their little feet would carry them.

At an only slightly more sedate pace, Harry and Severus followed them out of the classroom, turning the other way down the corridor towards the Potions Master's office. When they reached the office, they made their way immediately to the fireplace on the far side of the long room. Harry threw in a handful of the tiny green granules of floo powder from the pot on the mantle, but before he could step into the green flames, he was swung around into strong arms.

"I love you, Harry Potter. I don't tell you that nearly often enough," Severus murmured against Harry's lips.

The Gryffindor smiled, relaxing slightly. "You tell me every day, Severus. It's implied."

He melted into the gentle, earnest kiss that his husband placed on his lips. Even after nearly ten years, the man could still make him go weak at the knees with the smallest of gestures. Once they had pulled apart, they stepped as one into the fireplace and called for St. Mungo's.

SSHP

Harry had gotten his baby girl. It had taken nine years and three tries, but he had finally gotten the daughter he'd always wanted. It made him love magic. Through potions and magic, he and Severus had managed to have three perfect, healthy children that were a balance between only their genes. Their oldest, Brian Tobias, at 7, had Severus' nose and cheekbones, and his incurable desire to learn, with Harry's unmanageable hair and eyes; their second youngest, James Severus, at 4, was constantly going on adventures and getting into trouble, though never more than he could get himself out of. He had Severus' blue-black hair and eyes, and mostly Harry's features, though he wasn't an exact copy- Severus said it was Lily's softer cheekbones and chin. And now they had their own Lily Eileen, who Severus had immediately said looked like a cross between his mother and Harry's. Even newly born, you could tell that her hair was a dark red, as Lily the First's had been (not so bright as the Weasley red, almost auburn in Harry's opinion).

"I hope you two are done," Dean said quietly, standing beside Harry in the doorway to the hospital nursery. "I think I'm done watching my wife give birth to your kids."

Harry chuckled. "We are definitely done…I think three is just perfect." He looked at his schoolyard chum. "Thinking of having a few of your own, finally?"

Dean blushed. "We've been talking about it. We agreed early on to wait until I got a promotion within the Auror Corps, but…well, I look at you and Snape, and you're both so freaking _happy_ all the time. And I know Gin only agreed to wait because she didn't want to push me into it. I want what you and Snape have, and if I don't get the promotion I want, then I'll fly a desk instead. It's not the end of the world."

"It's worth it," Harry murmured, looking on as Severus tried and failed to keep the smile off his face as he held their newborn daughter, their boys leaping around his long legs, trying to get a look at their baby sister. "Sometimes I miss the days when you and Ron would invite me out on assignment with you, but…being home every night, _knowing_ I'm going to be home every night, to tuck in my little ones and read them bedtime stories? Being there to force Severus into 'scaring' away any lurking boogeymen hiding in the shadows, it all makes settling down worth it. That may change when they get older, but for now they want nothing more than to be held by me after they have a nightmare, and I want nothing more than to be there to hold them."

Harry saw Dean smile out of the corner of his eye when Severus began cooing at the little girl in his arms. Black eyes swept up to meet Harry's, and they shared a heartwarming moment across the hospital room. Harry closed the distance and gently took their daughter from his husband, placing a tender kiss on his husband's thin lips. Pretty soon, the room would be a revolving door of Weasley's, friends, and coworkers with well-wishes for the five of them, but for now Harry could pretend that nothing else existed outside of his and Severus' little family.


	11. Devoted

"Brian Tobias Potter-Snape, you listen to your father!" Harry shouted from where he was kneeling on the train platform in front of their youngest son.

"But, Dad, I want to go and meet my friends! The compartments will be all full if we don't hurry!" The 13 year old whined back.

Harry exchanged a look with his husband, who was just starting to show a little gray at the temples. After a moment of silent back and forth, the Potions Master turned back to their eldest son, who was dancing from one foot to the other.

"Go on, then, Toby, go find your friends," Harry heard his husband say in exasperation. The Third Year whooped and grabbed his trunk and owl cage from his father, moving as quickly as he could drag his trunk behind him towards the nearest carriage. "But don't come whinging to me when you realize you forgot something," Severus called to the boy, his voice cutting through the noise on the platform like a knife.

Brian looked back with a mischievous smirk. "'Course not, Papa, that's what Dad's for!"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle as Severus started after their frolicsome boy. He turned back to his youngest son after verifying that Lily was still a little ways away chattering with Hermione and Daphne about the new spells she'd learned. Like her eldest brother, she loved to learn, but without the mischievous streak. She was almost certainly going to be in Ravenclaw. When he turned his attention to James, he realized the boy was staring at the train as if it were a death sentence.

"What's the matter, Jamie?" Harry asked in concern.

The 11 year old looked at him with wide, black eyes. "I'm scared, Dad."

"How come?" Harry soothed. "It's only Hogwarts, you spent half your childhood there."

"I still _am_ a child," The boy corrected him. "And I'm scared because…what if I don't get put in Slytherin with Toby?"

Harry sighed and put a hand on the boy's shoulder as his husband moved back towards them, Lily on his hip. "Don't worry about that, Toby. You'll be welcome in whatever House you _do_ wind up in, the older years love you already, remember?"

"But, Dad, what if I wind up in _Hufflepuff_? Toby said that only losers and babies get put in Hufflepuff," James insisted.

"That's not true," Harry told him firmly. It didn't seem to have the calming effect he'd hoped for and he glanced at his husband. "I'm going to have a very serious talk with your brother when we get to the school. But, if you're really worried, then I'll tell you a secret: The Hat takes your preferences into account. If you _really_ don't want to be in Hufflepuff, then just tell the Sorting Hat to put you somewhere else."

James' eyes grew even wider with awe. "You mean, I can pick my House?"

Harry nodded.

"Then I'm going to be in Gryffindor!" The lad exclaimed.

Harry was about to tell him to let the Hat pick for him when the whistle of the Hogwarts Express blew, momentarily silencing the entire platform. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his young son's forehead.

"Behave on the train, Jamie, and I don't recommend sitting with your brother. If you can, try to find Rose. Uncle Ron said she would be in the second carriage, remember?" Harry said hurriedly, busying himself with adjusting James' tie.

"I remember, Dad." He stood almost completely still, sometimes as stoic as his father, but Harry could tell he was itching to get on the train. "And I'll see you and Papa at school, right?"

"And your sister," Harry reassured the boy. "Go on, now."

The First Year grinned, hugged his fathers, and grabbed his magically lightened trunk before racing towards the train. Harry stood up, brushing off his knees. The platform was emptying now that most of the students were on the train, but there were those few parents who insisted on waiting to see the train pull out of the station. Harry, after three years, was still proudly one of those few. He turned to his husband, who held the hand of their weeping seven year old daughter. Instantly, he was back to kneeling on the platform.

"What's the matter, Cherub?" He crooned. "You'll see your brothers at school."

"But _I_ want to go to Hogwarts, Daddy!" The girl cried angrily. "Toby said I was too little, but I want to go with James! I'm just as smart as he is!"

Harry glanced up at his husband, who shrugged, obviously unsure what to do. He sighed and pulled their little girl into his arms. "It's alright, Lils, it's only for a few more years. If you like, we can see if Uncle Draco and Aunt Hermione will teach you some spells on the weekends, so you can be learning with your brothers. Is that okay?" The seven year old sniffled and nodded before wiping her nose on Harry's shoulder. "Okay, then. Why don't you go wait with Aunt 'Mione and Aunt Daph while your father and I wave your brothers off? If you ask really nice, I'll bet Aunt Daphne has a piece of candy for you."

This brightened the little red-head's mood considerably and she skipped away to her favorite Aunts, her woes forgotten. Harry straightened again and grinned at his husband.

"You spoil her," Severus told him matter-of-factly.

"And you don't?" Harry challenged. He turned to watch as the train began to pull out of the station. James and Toby were both dangling out of windows a few compartments apart. "Did you get it set up with Minerva?"

"I did. James will find Herbert in his terrarium when he gets to his dorm. Hagrid offered to deliver it special, once he's been sorted," Severus answered from Harry's side, his arm snaking around the trim waist.

"If he does get into Gryffindor, he'll be the talk of the school, having a snake as a pet," Harry chuckled.

"A constrictor, no less," Severus said. "Though, he's going to be heartbroken when he finds out you lied to him."

"I didn't lie!" Harry replied crossly, rounding on his husband.

"Harry," The Potions Master said calmly. "You cannot simply _pick_ your House. The Sorting Hat has chosen the best fit for the students since the time of the Founders."

The Gryffindor returned to waving his boys off as they started to disappear around the bend of the tunnel. "That's right, I've never told you. I suppose because it never came up." He smirked at his husband. "When _I_ was sorted, the Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin. I only wound up in Gryffindor because I asked not to be in your House." He turned away to go and collect their daughter, leaving his husband staring after him in absolute wonder and surprise.

SSHP

That night, Harry walked into his bedroom exhausted. Most years, he was in bed long before Severus, who was always dealing with the homesick First Years in his House, but tonight the man was already undressing on his side of the bed. Harry started to undress as well.

"She's finally asleep," The Gryffindor told his husband. "I had to assure her seven different times that she would receive her Hogwarts letter when she was old enough."

"How come? She knows that, being magical, she'll be invited," Severus said in concern, climbing under the covers.

Harry slipped out of his trousers, tossing them into the hamper. "Apparently, Toby told her that the really smart girls get sent to Beauxbaton. She knows how smart she is, and she's become convinced that we're sending her to France."

The Potions Master chuckled. "Silly girl. If she were invited, it would be her choice."

"That's what I told her," Harry admitted, climbing into his side of the large four poster. "Still, I think I'll take her up to Minerva's office tomorrow and see if Minerva can't show her that her name is already on the list; to ease her mind."

Severus leaned over and propped himself on his elbow so that he was facing Harry. "You are a good father, Harry." He placed a slow, languid kiss on Harry's lips, a hand on his slim hip pulling the Defense Master towards him. "Now, come here, my beloved Gryffindor," Severus hissed, nipping at the spot beneath Harry's ear and making the younger man gasp. Impossibly long fingers ran over a tanned, naked thigh. "Show me how you can _slither_."

Harry rolled them, pinning his husband beneath him. "I'll certainly show you something," He whispered sensually.

Their bodies met in a clash of skin and teeth and tongue, sliding against one another in a delicate tango. Even after 15 years, they were still explorers of one another's body, finding spots that drew gasps, and hisses, and wanton moans. And, with each passing day, their love for one another grew, as did their love for their little family, and their large House just outside of Hogsmeade. Harry's dreams had come to pass, and, though the Gryffindor didn't know it, so had Severus'.


End file.
